Thorin Oakensheild
by Kalyn Adams
Summary: Thorin Oakensheild and his beloved meet each other after a long, tired wait and decide the name of the heir of Erebor. One shot.


Thorin and Geth

One of the most important things to know about Dwarfs is their high notions of priority, and their dedication to work. Their fierce sense of loyalty, duty and pride are never to be tampered with, unless you wanted an axe embedded in your skull.

The most fierce were the women: they would allow no others to take part in their activities, and keep their traditions a secret, passing their culture down generations to come.

Geth, daughter of Galdrog, son of Nadrolim Emberhand, King of the Blue Mountains; was no different. She fiercely protected the traditions of the line of Durin, shielded their customs, and secured their culture to an extent that even the women of Durin were deeply impressed.

After being blessed with a child, she had ceased her actions, but only slightly so, and that was only when her husband, Thorin, had banned her from all the places in the mountain except the garden and her own bedding chambers.

A few of her favorite maids accompanied her, and every once in a while, an elderly dwarf woman visited her, so that she could look upon the health of the child.

Thorin was banned from seeing Geth by the woman herself, and was only allowed to see Geth once a moon, and that too, only in the presence of one or two maids.

'Tis' for the good of the babe' she had told. 'Don't you go touching her whenever you get the compulsion, boy'

Thorin had irately left Geth's chambers, his ears burning as he caught few soft giggles from the maids.

This night, was one of Thorin's visiting days, and if one had keen eyes that could look into the Mountain's deepest halls, he could spot the Prince making his way to his wed's room, anticipating the feeling of his heir moving under his palms.

He lengthened his strides, anxious to get to his destination in time, for he had waited long days for the sheer movement of his babe in Geth's belly.

The moment he had rapped against the great wooden door of the queen's chambers, a hoarse voice called out to him.

"Enter"

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing the door quickly. It was said that women with babes got affected to the cold more than normal ones and the night was freezing.

The warmth was immensely welcoming and Thorin took a deep breath, closing his eyes and recognizing the scent of his wed.

One of the maids shuffled closer to him and and bowed in a curtsy, holding out her hands, clearly indicating to his furs. He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her with a nod of gratitude.

He finally moved his gaze to Geth, seated on a chair, with an other maid doing her hair.

"My love" he breathed, walking closer to her and sinking down to his knee. "May Mahal see that you always stay in fine health"

"I am perfectly content to gaze upon you if it meant that I would be dying tomorrow. You are my light, my stars, and my treasures, Thorin, and I would let everything of mine waste away if only it meant I would have more time with the man I love" she rasped out, allowing him to take her hands into his own.

"Speak no such words, my precious gem, or I shall die of agony. Let no harm come to you and my babe moving in your belly; and Erebor would rejoice the day my heir is born"

Both looked at each for a long, unwavering moment.

"Leave us" Geth said, soft and pleading, shifting her gaze to both the maids. "I assure that nothing of importance you would have to report to the healer will take place"

Both the maids looked uneasily at each other, hesitance clear in their eyes.

"Please" she added, and Thorin stiffened at her choice of words. No queen of his would beg anyone.

It was a good deed that both the maids had let down their stubborn priority of regulation, as they witnessed their Queen request and their faces both softened; if not, they would definitely have had a lash of the tongue from their king.

They bowed down their heads in understanding and glided out of the room, closing the door after them with a soft but audible thud. Though Thorin couldn't see, he was sure they were lingering, trying to listen through the thick wood.

"How is the heir to the throne treating you, my queen?" he asked her, placing one of his very large hands on Geth's bulging belly, tilting his face up to her, a barest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Just like you would, my love, stubborn and demanding" Geth replied cheekily, fingering her wedding braid that was loose and fell to her shoulder.

Thorin smiled gently at her, at her ability to lighten the room's gloom with her words in her frail condition. His gaze fell onto her fiddling fingers, toying with her braid.

"I have not attended to your wedding braid all this time, forgive me" he said, lowering his head in shame.

Usually, when two Dwarfs married, the husband's job was to braid his wed's wedding plait every morning: the woman herself was not allowed to braid it herself- bad luck would issue.

Personally, Thorin believed in no such tale, but he liked the feeling of Geth's soft, silky hairs through his fingers, and the satisfaction that came to him when they were tamed with a quick weave and when the braid was finally finished, he would kiss it and sweep it behind her ear, muttering promises and declarations of love.

Since the arrival of the babe, Thorin hardly saw his love, and the moments they spent each other were in desperation- he knew not when he would be called away nor when he would be ordered away. Needless to say, he was not worried over a piece of hair.

Geth on the other hand, was so cautious about it that she nearly felt terror grip her heart when one of the maid's comb got stuck in the said braid.

She had nearly banished the maid from her chambers before she regained her control, upon seeing that the braid was only slightly rumpled.

"Be careful, Nyaya" she had muttered, trying in wain to smooth the hairs back into the braid.

The maid had apologized profusely, and had not touched her hair since, an action that was content with both women.

"You have had not the time, nor I, blame not yourself, my love- I cannot see my husband in pain" Geth proclaimed, placing a hand on his bearded cheek.

Thorin met her warm gaze once more, his thumbs soothing circles into her achingly swollen belly.

"May I?" he sought permission, looking at her with such love and adoration that Geth's breath hitched and a faint blush covered her cheeks.

"The only dwarf in Erebor who has the only right to seek my embrace asks me permission to braid my hair? Shame on you, my lord"

Thorin chuckled.

Pulling himself up, he stood infront of her, caressing the thin braid with his fingers, unsure of the comb's location.

"I need no comb when my king weaves my hair with utmost precision. I need no lipid when his fingers are as soothing as feather, and I need no ornament when it is he who braids me. I need nothing when you are my husband, Thorin- the mere fact quenches my very thirst"

"And I would need no other, notice no other nor live with no other, my love" Thorin replied, his hands moving deftly to undo the messy braid.

He weaved gently, making sure he took his time caressing her black locks.

"Your locks would make Durin jealous, my bright gem- he would wage wars just to claim you hand, and take you his wife. How I am so fortunate, I do not know; for I have no knowledge of how he could let you go"

Geth looked at him, her eyes wide as gold coins, from under the braid he was working on. Shyness swam in her eyes, and her eyelids fluttered under Thorin's intense gaze. She blushed, and looked down, causing the finished braid to slip out of her husband's fingers.

"I do not believe that Durin himself would be after me" she murmured, not knowing what to say to Thorin's bold proclamation.

"Oh my love, have faith in me, he would"

Geth bit her lip, and her face grimaced as she stood up, a hand supporting her belly and the other holding onto Thorin's forearm.

"Your heir" she said shyly. "If he a boy, I wish to name him Thrin, the great dwarven king who bring honor to his father, his grandfather, and his forefathers. The great king under the mountain, known to all on land; man, elf, dwarf, goblin, orc, bird and beast; the very elements in middle earth. Your son will be a good king, beloved by all, just as you are"

"You have been thinking much, my love" Thorin said, pulling her into his arms firmly.

"Without my king next me, my thoughts do rather render my mind prisoner"

Thorin chuckled, pulling back to look at his wife.

After a long moment of each looking into the others' eyes deeply;

"Aye. He will be named Thrin. He will the great lord of Durin's Folk, Thrin, son of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the king under the mountain. And he would also be a son of Geth, my love - Thrin, son of Geth, daughter of Lewyen, daughter of the great Queen of the Forest. If it pleases you, I would have my son, the heir to the throne be named as you wish. I will not stop you, nor let my father and grandfather do the same"

"Thank you, Thorin" Geth said, bringing both of her hands to cup his cheeks, into which he leaned contently. "Truly"

Thorin smiled. "If the babe were a girl, could I name her?"

"It would only seem fair" Geth laughed softly, sliding her hands off her husband and looking at him intently.

Thorin watched his wife keenly.

"Putri" he finally said, trying to spot any disdain in her eyes. However, it never rose, but a smile did, onto her quivering mouth.

"Putri" she replied. "That is beautiful, Thorin"

"I'm glad you like it"

Thorin took a step back, releasing his wife and splayed a large hand on her belly.

"To my heir" he said nonsensically. He ignored Geth's confused look and knelt, pressing his lips to where he thought the babe's head.

"And his mother" he said, sliding off a ring from one of his thick fingers onto her much thinner ones.

When he realized it would slide and drop off the single finger, he chuckled and gathered two of them, and the ring slid home snugly.

He kissed the back of her hand, and rose to his feet.

"Till I see you again, my love"


End file.
